Be Here With Me Now
by itsavolcano
Summary: He'd nearly witnessed her execution in a Texas field a month ago. If he were being truthful with himself, and with her, that was the moment the novelty of hunting down psychos and murderers began to wear thin. Post-ep for 7x04 "Black Market"


_I'll be the one who stays_

_I'll be the one who says:_

_You should be here with me now_

("Smashing" Ray LaMontagne)

**Be Here With Me Now**

Groggy from his evening nap, Jane cracked open an eye and licked his dry lips. Everything ached, from hair roots, to nail beds, to _this little piggy ran all the way home_ toes. He suspected he also had a fever.

He hadn't felt this warmed over in quite some time and admittedly it wasn't an experience he missed. Still, as far as colds went, he supposed it was pretty standard. More soup and tea, a couple more days of rest and he'd be on the mend. Or dead. Could go either way. Jane shifted in the bed and groaned when his knees popped and cracked as he struggled to stand.

"Old man," he muttered to an empty trailer as he stripped sweat-damp clothes from his clammy skin and made the slow trek to the bathroom. Letting the water heat up, Jane leaned against the small pedestal sink, the porcelain cool to the touch. He never wanted to get a cold again. Or worse, the dreaded _flu_. Jane shivered.

Stepping under the spray, his mind drifted to Lisbon. Her foray as a psychic medium had been top-notch. Not to mention adorable. Watching her react, so quick on her feet, while he whispered information in the ear piece only reminded him of what a great team they made. But it also reminded him that he wanted more. He had spent nearly a third of his life either crouched over dead bodies or staring into the eyes of murderers. While it had been, for most of that time, a means to an end, Jane now found he no longer wanted to shroud himself in darkness-neither his own, nor the darkness of others.

He wanted sunrises, and beaches, and breakfasts on back porches. But most importantly, he wanted Lisbon in his arms. He didn't want to live with the constant fear humming at the base of his skull, the fear that she'd be taken from him. He didn't want to live with the knowledge that any seemingly routine suspect interview could be the last. After all, he'd nearly witnessed her execution in a Texas field a month ago. If he were being truthful with himself, and with her, that was the moment the novelty of hunting down psychos and murderers began to wear thin.

Jane leaned against the slick plastic shower wall. The hot water was helping his muscles, but it was also making him more alert than he'd felt all afternoon. He thought of Lisbon, stretched out next to him on the small bed, her fingers gently moving of his wrist, her voice soft and playful. He was finding so many new things to love about Lisbon, and that sweet tone she took with him when it was just the two of them was quickly becoming a favorite. He wanted her next to him always. In fact, he'd been sad to see her go. She'd sneezed three more times on her way to her car and had he been more awake, he'd have gone after her. He'd have pulled her back to his bed and they could be sick together. Instead, he'd dozed off.

He thought of the words he'd told her just before she left. She'd practically leapt from the bed after he talked about pointing the Airstream in any direction and flooring the gas. He knew change made her nervous, knew that she was doing her best to let him in just as he was doing his best to break down his own walls. And that's why he wanted to be open with her, why he talked of leaving. He wanted to ride off into the sunset with his best girl as they tried their hand at a happily ever after. He wasn't sure what would come of them on the road. They were both nomadic enough that they could adapt to any new environment. And he had money secreted away, untouched during his years in Venezuela, that they could live comfortably well into their golden years.

But Teresa Lisbon was not one to laze about on a beach for longer than two weeks. She would grow restless, Jane knew. He sighed and leaned his head against the wall once more. He really had been _just_ thinking when he'd mentioned it to her. He hadn't fully thought out the scope of what it meant to up and leave. If it had been just Jane, if they weren't a joint-unit, then it would be easy to just fire up the Airstream and disappear. Abbott and his FBI gang would never find him again. Of course, he'd only left his no-extraditing haven because the promise of returning to Lisbon was too good to pass up. And while he'd grown to like his new little family, he liked Lisbon more. He would do whatever she wanted, and if she wanted to stay, then they would stay. But he would do his best to talk her into traveling around with him more, and on their own leisurely pace without the threat of psychos looming on the horizon. No, he definitely wasn't going anywhere without Lisbon. He knew what a life without her looked like, dull and aimless. He hated it.

Again, he wished she hadn't left in such a hurry that afternoon. When he talked of leaving Texas, he'd felt her tense beside him. No doubt she was worried about this next chapter for them, about what he would do if left without mental stimulation, of what she would do if left-

A sudden realization hit Jane as he played back his cold-addled words, turned them over in his mind and looked at it from her perspective. He groaned as the water turned from hot, to tepid, to cold.

xXx

In the cab ride to Lisbon's house, Jane played and replayed his comments about leaving, remembering the loving way she'd stroked his arm before dashing from the Airstream. He remembered a comment he'd made weeks ago, after Marcus Pike cornered him about his intentions. _I think we know what feels right, and that that should be our guide_.

Looking back, while his intent had been sincere, that remark sounded less assured than he'd have preferred. Teresa Lisbon was doing her best to trust him, but she was probably hedging her bets, too. Guarding a little piece of her heart away, in case he pulled another vanishing act. He couldn't blame her, she'd had nearly a decade of evidence to support her theory.

The cab pulled up in front of the lovely one-level home and Jane quickly paid and tipped lavishly, before grabbing the large paper bag from the seat next to him.

"Thanks, Paul, enjoy the fruit," Jane offered, as he slapped a hand on the back bumper, as if giving a pat to faithful horse. He gave a quick wave as Paul took a bite from the juicy apple Jane had gifted from his bag of treats. A favor for the kindness of stopping at the grocery store and not running up the meter. Of course, the hearty tip probably didn't hurt.

With a rattling sigh, Jane made his way up the walk to Lisbon's porch. He almost knocked but instead pulled out the key she'd given him a couple weeks ago. He'd stuck it on a little key ring he'd lifted from that place in Florida that had started it all, Blue Bird Lodge. He'd wanted a memento, and the key ring had been so tempting. When she'd given him the key, her cheeks pink and eyes shining, he'd known exactly where to keep it.

He managed to make it into the house without catching Lisbon off guard. An easy feat, since she was sacked out on the sofa, the blue glow of the television flickering over her pale skin. Jane sat the groceries on the kitchen table, quickly refrigerating the perishables, before leaning over the sofa.

He pressed his lips to her forehead, her skin warmer than usual. Not quite a fever, but definitely heading in that direction. Purple half-moons sat under her eyes and Jane felt a pang of guilt that she'd caught his cold. Looking around, he saw no evidence that she'd had dinner. Leaning in once more, he pressed his lips to her forehead, her cheeks, her nose.

"Teresa," he whispered. "Time to wake up."

She murmured and stretched, a sleepy smile playing at the corner of her mouth. Then, abruptly, she opened her eyes.

"Hello." He smiled.

"What are you doing here?" Lisbon frowned but she didn't look unhappy to see him. "You should be in bed." Jane hummed in agreement.

"As should you." Jane stood up and tugged off his suit jacket, dropping it on the nearest chair. "But I got to thinking, after you left—sneezing, I might add. Why should we suffer apart? Why not be infirmed, together?"

"You sweet-talker." Lisbon grinned and Jane went to fetch the dinner he'd left in the kitchen.

"I brought soup. Chicken. And those oyster crackers you like. There's OJ in the fridge, too. Vitamin C and all that." Dishing out bowls of the still piping hot soup, Jane cast a quick glance over his shoulder at Lisbon. She was sitting up now, the blanket falling to her knees. And she was looking at him with… with such open _love_ he had to turn back around.

They ate in companionable silence, Lisbon nestled up next to him, the blanket tucked around their legs. Soon, she was dozing off again, her head resting on his shoulder until a fit of sneezes woke her.

"What do you say we pack up and go to bed?" Jane tugged her to her feet and led her down the hall. With only the moonlight, he untucked her blouse and moved on to her belt and slacks. That she didn't give some half-hearted protest was proof that she was feeling crummier than she'd let on, the cold clearly hitting her hard. He found her favorite sweats and a t-shirt and helped her dress, then pulled her down and under the covers with him. Snuggling against him, she gave a shiver. He held her tighter.

"Lisbon?" He spoke softly, unsure if she'd fallen back asleep.

"Mmm?"

"I need to tell you something." With his lips pressed to her hair, he felt her tense. No, she definitely wasn't asleep now. He took a deep breath, ran his hand down her arm. He wanted to soothe her, he wanted to promise her... "I'm not going anywhere."

She relaxed, marginally.

"I need you to know that. No matter what happens, I don't particularly care to be away from you." He gently nudged her and she raised up on an elbow to look at him. "I love you, Teresa. I can't offer you much more than that, but I'm not going to take off. Not without you, at least."

Lisbon studied him, her eyes wide and watery. She opened her mouth to speak but before she could form words, she turned away from him and sneezed three times. Jane chuckled as Lisbon lifted her head.

"Now who's the sweet-talker?" He pulled her back down. "Let's sleep, now, hmm? We can talk about this in the morning. We can call out sick and watch movies all day. Something black and white, with snappy dialogue. Plus there's orange juice and cinnamon rolls in the kitchen. Let's see how we feel in the morning. What do you say?"

Lisbon leaned up and pressed her lips to his in a sweet, soft kiss.

"I'd like that." Then, she curled back against him, the thick bedding pulled up to their shoulders. "Let's see what tomorrow brings."

**FIN**


End file.
